


i left you (so you would live)

by makethisapride (thefaultofoursouls)



Series: this monster called love (we lived like kings) [1]
Category: The 100
Genre: A lot - Freeform, Angst, F/F, Heavy on the angst, but this is just one part of their grand story, feels people FEELS, hopefully, i cried, more to come - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 13:43:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14045493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefaultofoursouls/pseuds/makethisapride
Summary: Clarke is nothing without Lexa.A pile of broken glass would be an exaggeration.





	i left you (so you would live)

**Author's Note:**

> Get ready for the feels.  
> I cried while writing this and I don’t cry a lot.  
> So. Just saying.

Clarke was nothing without Lexa.

A broken mess was all she could describe herself as - but maybe even that was an exaggeration.

It hurt deep down inside somewhere in her soul she didn’t know existed until now, and she tried to ignore the voice in her head that told her _Clarke, maybe you dò have a heart here_.

That was impossible.

Because if she had had a heart, she wouldn’t have left Lexa, not when the girl she loved more than anything else in the world was in a hospital bed, at her weakest point in life.

Not when she was so close to dead, and still used up her energy to call out for Clarke, her voice fading each time, like her heartbeat.

Not when those green eyes were filled up with tears and Clarke felt like she was being ripped apart from inside because she was causing those tears.

It took this to muster up the strength to leave her there:

Anya, the stoic one who never cried, never sniffled, pleading her, on her knees, hands clasped, crying, to please leave because there was no way Lexa would go through with the surgery if Clarke was there.

There would be no way that she would have the motivation to get back up and survive the surgery. Because if Clarke was there, Lexa would not fight. She would pass away silently, with more blood than not blood gushing out of her body, with the monitors making more noise than her, with the knowledge and that Clarke loved her. That would have been enough for Lexa.

It took this:

Raven squeezing her hand in a silent prayer.

_Lord, give me the strength that I may make someone live by breaking their heart and making them vengeful. Give me the strength to walk out this room after telling Lexa I don’t love her. But most of all, forgive me, for I will have sinned. I will have sinned greatly. I will have rent and ripped a soul and a heart of an angel apart. Forgive me, Lord, for I cannot forgive myself._

Clarke needed Lexa to live: she didn’t care about the cost. Even if she had to tear Lexa’s soul apart for it. Even if she was a killer, a demon.

Sometimes the villains were given no choice in the matter.

It took this:

Octavia crying into Clarke’s shoulder, but urging her on:

Do what needs to be done. Do what needs to done. Lexa thinks her fight is over. You have to give her more fight, more strength, and the only way that will ever happen is if you tell she is not good enough, because then she will fight. Do what needs to be done, Clarke. You are the only one who can do it.

Sometimes the villains were really the misunderstood heroes of the story.

It took this:

Clarke looking at herself in the mirror and breaking it. Telling herself this was what she would be without Lexa. And then obliterated the mirror until her fists were broken and bloody. And telling herself this was what she would be like if Lexa didn’t live.

Sometimes the only thing made villains evil was that they loved too much - and then they couldn’t ever let go.

It took this:

Clarke realizing she would gladly play the role of the villain in Lexa’s story if it meant she would get a happy ending by defeating the villain.

So she did.

And as she walked out of the hospital that day, she only hoped that Lexa would fight and live, even if she was broken.

Even if it reduced Clarke to rubble, brought her down to her knees, choked the life out of her every second she lived -

But broken souls and hearts could be mended. A death could not be turned back into life.

She had done the right thing, Clarke thought. But it haunted her still.

It haunted her, in the form of pleading green eyes that burned and burned with fire that spread throughout the whole world like an inferno, in the form of the knowledge that Lexa would never forgive her, much less love her, in the knowledge that she would never see Lexa again. The very notion made her feel sick, physically sick, from the top of her head to the tips of her feet, because all she ever knew was Lexa and her laugh and her hands and the way she played the piano and beat the daylight out of fighters in the same breath, how she was stubborn and all hard edges around everyone but soft and pliant with Clarke, like living clay under her hands, under her construction, and Clarke had messed up.

She had marred the most beautiful masterpiece on this earth with four words, and it was a mistake, and she knew it, she knew it -

She knew the way Lexa’s heart thumped under her heart, matching it beat for beat, thump for thump, and how Lexa’s body slotted perfectly against hers when they spooned, and how Lexa ate her ice cream by slurping it off the spoon’s tip, and her heart and body was shaking with terror, because Lexa didn’t love her back anymore -

And that was a terrible thing, to be seventeen and know that the person you literally would die for didn’t even love you back anymore.

But that was what she deserved. 

————

Once upon a time, a hero loved a villain. Then the hero was mortally wounded, and Fate offered a deal to the villain: break the hero’s soul to let the hero live.

The villain loved the hero more than anything in the world, so she agreed to forsake her love for her love’s sake.

Fate healed the hero. She looked for the villain everywhere so she could show her what she had lost.

The villain had become meaner, darker, setting villages and kingdoms on fire, annihilating armies in one breath, fueled by rage and despair that she had lost her love that she would have died for.

The hero started to look for the villain to kill her.

She found her, and took her sword to the ready, and expected the villain to fight back. But the villain pushed out her chest and told the hero to impale her.

She told her hero everything: how Fate tricked her into going away, how the hero’s life was a bargain, how she could not live with what she had done.

The hero did not kill her. She hugged her, and taking her into her arms, flew her to the Emperor of Light, who knew their story.

The Emperor said that the villain was a rare one, more good than evil at heart, but still one who had done evil things, and so she must be punished.

The hero begged and pleaded.

And the Emperor was touched. But what goes around comes around. So the villain was given another option because of her love for the hero: forsake what she was at heart, what she was meant to be: a villain, an Immortal, but she did so gladly.

The hero could not bear watching her villain wither away as a mortal, and gave the villain half her immortality.

How? By merging both their bodies, hearts, minds, and souls into one.

And thus soulmates were created.


End file.
